North of Heaven, West of Hell
by In Pieces
Summary: Adam realized that, even if the present was not what he expected, it didn't seem so bad after all.


Adam Jensen lit the last cigarette of the pack and tossed the lighter and empty box aside, hearing the muffled sound the lighter made when it landed in the cushion beside him. He breathed in and slowly let the smoke out through his nostrils as he dully stared at the image of Eliza Cassan in the television, not particularly paying attention to the news she was giving.

Eliza's voice was the only thing giving his apartment an air of livingness, breaking the silence that mostly predominated in the place. For quite some time Adam had been alone, and that could be seen in the somehow organized mess of his apartment. Everything had his essence; from the bowls with cereal leftovers, to the half-empty bottles of whiskey, full ashtrays, unfilled cardboard boxes doing nothing but occupying space and the unmade and cold bed.

Adam was tired of being a pawn and carrying burdens that he didn't even knew about; tired of being a guinea pig since the day they were able to get a hold of him.

_"Jensen, I don't know how bad you think your wounds were but your boss, your friend Sarif…They butchered you. Went too far with the operation. You were an experiment, a test. But he's the one that made you a weapon."_

Radford's word echoed on his mind and more and more he found himself wondering if he had taken the right decision. Spreading Sarif's message could have been a mistake. Yes, he saved him back in the day and aided him when he needed him the most; but the cost, even if it had not been monetary, was high. He respected and trusted Sarif, but he made him his property, his personal toy; he sugar-coated his actions with words and a few special treatments, but nothing could vanish how the letters embedded into his temple were proudly announcing that he was Sarif Industries' creation.

He had enough.

But, could he really refuse if Sarif asked for permission to use his DNA for the better of civilization? Could he just overlook everything that could evolve because of it?

He couldn't. He couldn't turn his back to those who, like him, had no choice but to keep living with augmentations; those who, unlike him, had to take a weekly dose of Neuropozyne if they didn't want to suffer the consequences.

There were more important things at stake than him.

Technology was evolving quicker than before; the augmentation market was expanding at alarming rates, more augmentation prototypes were being launched and companies like Sarif Industries were becoming stronger potencies around the globe. The oppositions against augmentations were decreasing, riots were becoming scarce. It had taken a few years for things to settle down, but that didn't mean that it was over.

There was a long path ahead of them with the goal of becoming what humanity always hoped to achieve: a sense of immunity, the right to be able to play the part of Gods to try to reach a 'perfect equilibrium'.

And so much resurging technology could only mean that the same problems would resurface again and again. It was an endless circle to seek improvement, even in the times were it was not necessary and it turned into a simple whim.

Forced evolution was a double-edged sword; it had as much consequences as it had advantages. How many would find themselves lost in the power-hungry aspects of a technology meant to be an improvement to achieve a better life? How many tyrants would rise from the shadows hoping to conquer it all with oppressions and terrorizations?

Noticing the cigarette had been mostly consumed as he mused, Adam grinded it in a nearby ashtray. He paid no attention to the sound of footsteps behind him that turned into a faint rummaging when they reached the kitchen and, with that, the strong smell of brewing coffee began to impregnate the air, letting the smell of smoke slowly dissipate.

There she was again. She enjoyed spending the night in his apartment, and Adam didn't protest about her company. Sometimes she cleaned up his mess in the morning, some others she contributed with another dirty dish alongside his in the coffee table in front of the couch.

Adam once found her staring at the old pictures of Megan he kept at his desk. He had observed her trace the picture frame and, when she felt his gaze on her, she placed the picture back on its place and showed the paper tower covered with dust that was in her hand. "I know my place, Jensen." She told him. He didn't make any comments on that.

He never requested her to be there to keep him company and try to fill the space Megan left in his life, even if she was well aware she could never equal what he and Megan had in the past. And what for? He was not the affective type; he was plagued with inner demons and had nothing to truly offer.

Yet, she was still there.

For a time, he believed that all the changes in his body could overpass every aspect of his mind, and that the very essence of his humanity would be shattered against the artificial part of him; the one that, at times, he felt too eager to use for his own sake just because he could do it, because his power had broken boundaries that he thought were indestructible and turned him into something he never imagined he'd to become.

But augmentations were what you made them to be.

He strived with the change; it was a slow and tiring process that required patience and dedication. And in the end, the result was not bad at all. It was a character decision, something that could be black or white or, if you were willing to see it, a vast grayscale full of endless possibilities.

A steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of him and he gratefully took it, letting the bitterness wash away the taste of smoke from his mouth. He thanked his companion and received a small smile in return before she let her attention drift towards the television.

He regarded her for a few seconds as he took another sip of the bitter liquid before letting his eyes rest in the unsurprising images shown in the flat screen. And he realized that, even if the present was not what he expected, it didn't seem so bad after all.

* * *

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it.

Disclaimer: Deus Ex: Human Revolution and its characters belong to Eidos Montreal.


End file.
